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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579769">Stacking Hay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmweis2771/pseuds/BatzMaru65'>BatzMaru65 (tmweis2771)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Peep into SuperBat's Life [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Bruce Wayne, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mention of sex, Top Clark Kent, bruce's pov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:48:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmweis2771/pseuds/BatzMaru65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce was helping out at the Kents' farm when Clark decided to surprise him. (Hint: ring)</p><p>Written for the Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021, Prompt #20 - Cleaning the Barn.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, SuperBat - Relationship, Superman/Batman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Peep into SuperBat's Life [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1388353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Batsupes Secret Valentines Exchange 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stacking Hay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For loveastart.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce was smiling, and the little upward twitch was neither cynical nor smirking. Rather, it was a satisfied smile, born out of doing something enjoyable.</p><p>But Bruce was just stacking hay in the old Kent barn. He stood on the flatbed of Martha’s Ranger, tossing bale after bale onto the loft above. It was strenuous but that didn’t bother him at all. For Bruce had always enjoyed the physical and the feel of his muscles working in sync to accomplish a task – it was most gratifying.</p><p>The best part though was the monotony of it all.</p><p>There was no need to pre-empt just to stay ahead of villainous plots and games. No need to be on his toes while he thwarted criminals and scum alike, making sure he survived the night. All Bruce needed to do was bend, lift and throw – minimal thinking required. It was the best relaxation exercise, especially for someone who had to use his brains all the time.</p><p>That, however, didn’t mean that Bruce wasn’t aware of his surroundings.</p><p>He knew that Clark was up on the roof of the barn. The little shift and creaks from overhead told him so. They were like tracking beacons to his ears and Bruce didn’t even have to look to know where Clark had squatted down to mend a worn-out part.</p><p>The same goes too with his sense of smell. The sudden spike in the sweet aroma (which had lingered all morning in the air) and Bruce knew Martha’s cooking was almost done. It was best to switch off the stove now or her delicious apple jam would be burnt.</p><p>And in the distance, beneath restless clucking of hens and Krypto’s happy barks, Bruce could detect the low hum of a tractor. The last batch of hay should have been bundled by now and Bruce quickly emptied the Ranger. He leapt down just as Jonathan appeared, car keys in hand.</p><p>After a wave in greeting to Clark’s adoptive father, Bruce scrambled up to the loft. He began stacking hay, making sure to optimise the space to its fullest potential. That was how he worked. And even with such a minor task, Bruce could not complete it without giving his all. He just couldn’t be slipshod and the same applied as well to the need to scrutinize his surroundings. Called it occupational hazard – for his years as Batman had trained him to be so.</p><p>But at least, here, helping to ready the farm for winter, Bruce was as relaxed as he could never really be in Gotham. There was no immediate danger in the sudden rustling of trees due to a gust of wind. And neither was there cause for alarm when a loud grind signalled Jonathan changing gears. So when footsteps were heard climbing the loft’s ladder, Bruce didn’t turn around. It was only Clark and sometimes, he liked to tease his boyfriend by ignoring him.</p><p>It wasn’t very nice. But knowing that he could make the Man of Steel pout due to a lack of attention – that was intoxicating. It also helped to quieten the insecurities that often troubled Bruce’s heart.</p><p>Despite their years together, Bruce still doubted if he was right for Clark. There were others, Diana, Lois, who would make better companions than an old man approaching his 50s. They could gift him a child or two (a biological matter that was beyond Bruce) and Clark need no longer be the sole surviving Kryptonian.</p><p>He knew how alone Clark sometimes felt without his kindred. And even though he wanted to fix this for him, he couldn't. So when they quarrelled terribly, Bruce often thought that he should end it all. Give Clark a chance to start afresh with someone less stubborn and more accommodating. Let Clark be with someone more positive than his negative pessimism. Clark deserved to have much more love than what Bruce’s handicapped heart could offer.</p><p>But Clark refused to give up and Bruce couldn’t refuse him, no matter how he had steeled his resolve. And so they soldiered on, with Bruce occasionally, succumbing to the need to test Clark’s love.</p><p>“B…<em>I’m here. Look at me, please.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Why won’t you talk to me!  You know how I’m dying to hear your voice.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Miss you, love you so hug me, Bruce.”</em>
</p><p>Hearing Clark speak so or having him lose patience – tugging him into his embrace and demanding kisses from him. Bruce was reassured. Clark still wanted him and so he could love him still. That was the promise Bruce had made to himself when he accepted Clark. He would never become a burden. He would never hold Clark back. If Clark didn’t want him anymore, Bruce must let him go irregardless of his feelings.</p><p>He knew it wasn’t healthy, this habit of his. And he should talk to Clark instead of beating round the bush in such a complicated manner. That, unfortunately, was still a work-in-progress for him.</p><p>Open communication wasn’t easy for Bruce. Try growing up as an orphaned billionaire and you would understand why. The amount of betrayals Bruce had suffered through – had scarred him to the core. Subterfuge had become second nature and the idea of baring his soul, frank and honest, was unthinkable.</p><p>Old habits die hard. And he couldn’t just go up to Clark and ask if he loved him, every time he needed some reassuring. So Bruce resorted to petty tricks, hoping that it wouldn’t all backfire one day, pissing Clark off.</p><p>And maybe that one day was today. For 30 seconds had passed since Clark stepped onto the loft and Bruce had yet to receive a response.</p><p>With trepidation sinking his heart and tightening his chest, Bruce stopped his stacking. He squared his shoulders (bracing himself for whatever was to come) and turned around, only to have his breath stolen from him.</p><p>There. That look.</p><p>As if nothing mattered and Clark only had eyes for him.</p><p>And what great eyes they were too.</p><p>Blue as a clear wintry sky yet warm like the brilliant sun. Their depths were steeped with so much love and affection – all directed at Bruce – turning his knees weak and melting his brains into mush.</p><p>How could he even think under such a look.</p><p>So when Clark began to kneel, getting onto one knee, Bruce couldn’t react. He stood, frozen, while Clark drew out a tiny box and flipped the lid open.</p><p>Upping the intensity of his look, Clark asked in a voice gone husk.</p><p>“Bruce, will you marry me?”</p><p>Eyes darting between Clark and the silver band nestled in its velvet cushion, Bruce opened his mouth, swallowed and choked. Coughing and turning pink at the same time, he finally managed to croak out.</p><p>“...in the middle of hay?”</p><p>And wanted to smack himself on the head.</p><p>That wasn’t what he was supposed to say! The line he had thought of was way cooler but his frazzled neurons had delivered it all wrong.</p><p>“Well...”</p><p>Clark glanced around the age-old loft before looking at Bruce again, his smile now smirky in a sexy way.</p><p>“Isn’t this the most appropriate place?”</p><p>Whereas he was pink before Bruce now turned crimson.</p><p>Clark, of course, would choose this place. To Bruce, the barn was just a barn (the experience that they had, holding more importance than the where it had happened). But to Clark who was big on romance, the barn must have been special.</p><p>It was here, in the midst of mucking out the barn that Clark had asked him to be his boyfriend. And later that same night, it was also here, at the loft that they had their first sex (both afraid of waking up Clark’s parents if they did it in the farmhouse).</p><p>So it shouldn’t be surprising that Clark had decided to do a proposal here – dressed in faded overalls (similar to what he wore that night), and Bruce had hay in his hair (which he did after their make-out session).</p><p>It was the timing that was unexpected.</p><p>If Bruce was to plot their relationship on a graph, it would be extremely jagged in the beginning (lots of highs and lows) before petering out into a monotonous line. That was how he thought they would continue to be – comfortable and fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle.</p><p>But with that one question today, Clark had gone and upset the uneventfulness of their relationship. Bruce should be on cloud nine, brimming with happiness but he felt really nervous. If he were to be married, there would be more to lose should things go awry. And Bruce wasn’t referring to assets and finances.  He was worried about becoming even more attached to Clark (he was already addicted as it is) – and the emotional upheaval should their marriage failed.</p><p>Bruce wasn’t ready. He needn’t time to think.  But one look at Clark’s pleading eyes and Bruce had stuck out his right hand only to groan loudly in dismay.</p><p>Damn work gloves!</p><p>Snatching his hand back, Bruce scrambled to pull that ugly hindrance off. However, his panicky fingers made what should have been an easy task (Batman does it every night) an impossibility.</p><p>Then Clark was there, so close that Bruce could smell his blend of sun-soaked sweat and spice. Unable to look at him, he fixed his gaze on Clark’s hands, feeling hot and heady as Clark peeled the glove off, as gentle as he undresses Bruce during sex.</p><p>The glove vanished (to where, Bruce didn’t care) and Clark was lifting his hand. With bated breath, he watched as Clark slipped the ring on until it came to rest, snug and perfect.</p><p>Mesmerised by the gleam and feel of the new weight on his finger, Bruce splayed his right hand against Clark’s chest. He was immediately cocooned by Clark’s arms while a pleasant vibration thrummed through his fingers and into his body – the result of Clark’s joyous laughter.</p><p>Then it finally came crashing down – what this moment truly meant.</p><p>Clark was his.</p><p>Clark was his at last and Bruce could love him as much as he wanted to without having to check if he was allowed.</p><p>The burst of emotions, fierce and overwhelming, had Bruce surging forward to grasp Clark’s face. And his kisses, neither soft nor tender, was driven by a desperate need to let Clark know how he felt.</p><p>Bruce was extremely grateful and happy and anxious and relieved. Most of all, Bruce realised how stupidly he had been bluffing himself.</p><p>To think that he could just walk away, smooth and debonair, if Clark didn’t want him.</p><p>No, Bruce wouldn’t have been so gentleman.</p><p>He would have been unscrupulous.</p><p>And if Clark had come today to break up with him instead, Bruce had no idea what he would have done.</p><p>But that was no longer a matter of concern. For Clark was really his and Clark was kissing him back, equally passionate and worked up. Bruce was swept away by another wave of emotions, so much so that when they went tumbling back into the hay, he didn’t even realise.</p><p>So caught up was he in feeling Clark, Bruce didn’t even register the fact that he had been murmuring in between his kisses. Words that he hardly spoke now came spilling out in a litany.</p><p>“Love you, I love you, love you so much, really love you...”</p><p>Then Clark was smiling down, bright and brilliant, making Bruce miss several heartbeats.</p><p>“I already know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is sort of a prequel to a little snippet that I wrote 2 years ago. It's called Can't Stop Kissing You and here's the link, https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985722.</p><p>You can also find me on Tumblr, Superbat Addicted. There's more of my random stuff there. </p><p>🙂</p></blockquote></div></div>
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